Saturday, June 27, 2009

Bed sores, beer guts and an eternity in hell

'Idle hands are the devil's tools.' -- Grandmas and CCD teachers.

Unfortunately, SitOnThings has had a pitchfork in its ass these past few weeks, a seamless stream of days spent dawdling across the northeastern United States. SoT has relaxed in a disturbing amount of deck chairs, comfy beds and dimly lit couches. We have, as the idiom goes, sat on our hands -- and for too long.

Not to be preachy and hypocritical, but SoT submits this expose as proof that our nation is toes over a precipice. Yet, contrary to the banal-cliche-loving media and faculty lounge crowd, 'this tough economy' is not at the root of our evils. Subprime mortgages and the federal deficit are not the problem. Nor are gay marriages, universal healthcare proposals and Congressional green energy iniatives responsible for our downfall (Taxpayer-financed Argentinian homewreckers are -- j/k).

But let's geat real. Society's ills can be traced to one thing: Sloth.

Slacking.

Deadbeatedness.

Or, more bluntly, an invitation to Satan. The party's 'RSVP regrets only' and he ain't calling. Inertia is an aphrodisiac to the Prince of Darkness.

Consider the lazy, slack-jawed children pictured above. The little slugs rot on a lunchroom bench (a bench!) waiting for el diablo to have his way with them. This school, like so many others, is failing its students! Attention kids: it's time to finish your hot dog and fruit punch, get off that stodgy seat and exercise your free will and creativity.

Stop sitting on your hands. Or else:

Pros:Ample time to think about the next great American novel, you know, the one you'll never get around to writing.

Your mom will make you cold cut sandwiches.

Finally have an opportunity to study your old yearbook and decide which girls you "totally could have got with."

Cons: See Post Title.

HBO and Showtime air the same movies all week long.

From bed to toilet to chair to couch to bed. Repeat.

You will forget how to write well.

If you enjoy hearing "And if you call within the next ten minutes, we'll throw in..." with your back to the television as you surf Match.com, then sit on your hands. Do nothing. Watch your hairline recede and rabbits eat your garden. Just remember, you will have an internet girlfriend who amounts to a steamy pen pal. You will be the last person using Myspace. You will fail to make polite conversation with adults who ask the dreaded "So, what are you going to do next?"